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I'm Maggie Smith and this is the Slowdown. It struck me recently how much technology has changed our relationships with our bodies. There are devices that tell us how well or poorly we slept the night before, how many steps we took in a given day, what our heart rate is. When we work out, we have access to more data about our physical selves than ever. And we don't even need to go to the doctor to get that data. We also have access to our own image. More than ever before, I know that technology has made me more aware of my body and my face because I see myself so often on Zoom, on FaceTime, in selfies. When I teach in a classroom, I'm looking at the students. When I give a talk in an auditorium or theater, I see the audience. My gaze is outward. But when I teach a workshop or speak virtually, I see myself doing it. I'm aware of myself as a physical being. That awareness adds another layer to the experience, a layer I'm relieved to shed when my events are in person. It's funny to think that we don't know what people see when they look at us. Not really. The only way we ever see ourselves is in reverse, a mirror image. The people in our lives literally see something different when they look at us than what we see in the mirror. The people in our lives see us differently than we see ourselves. If we are lucky, they look at us with love and deep interest and tenderness, and those feelings color the image. I'm sure I see a different kind of beauty in the people I love than they see in themselves. Maybe part of loving others is helping them see that beauty. Today's poem considers how we regard ourselves, our physical selves. It's a poem I love, a poem that I see a lot of beauty in Parts of a Body House By Erica Meitner I've never received an eviction notice. These days I shake uncontrollably every time I think of the tactile universe. It's been eons since my hands were peripatetic. Back then my body was a remote spaceship fueled by lust and network technology. In bed, in first light, I turned toward my own visage and the reverse setting on my phone camera arrows flipped outside. Now I take photos of everything insignificant. Ragweed, roadside forsythia, dandelion clocks overrunning a drainage ditch. Ghost seed. This year Brood X cicadas are emerging in swarm or celebration, depending on whom gets asked, entomologist or civilian. On subways I think of walking. When I walk, I think of trains. Radiant city your shine whips through me with machinic consistency. I talk to my body like it's a house on the market. When my mouth opens, there are sucking parts. This is not a plague of locusts with their pharaoh pharaoh call. This is our promised summer. Someone has waved the inspection. Someone has made an offer far above asking. The Slowdown is a production of American Public Media in partnership with the Poetry Foundation. To get a poem delivered to you daily, go to slowdownshow.org and sign up for our newsletter and find us on Instagram atdowndownshow and blueskylowdownshow.org Foreign Maggie here, host of the Slowdown. Listening to and reading poetry helps us find our footing in an uncertain world, especially during challenging times. You can help keep these moments of poetry and reflection going by making a gift today. Visit slowdownshow. Org Donate.
Episode: 1358 – “Parts of a Body House” by Erika Meitner
Host: Maggie Smith
Date: September 23, 2025
In this episode, host Maggie Smith reflects on the evolving relationship between technology and our perception of our physical selves. Smith explores how modern technology affects the way we see, understand, and value our bodies—both from the inside and through others’ eyes. She introduces and discusses Erika Meitner's poem “Parts of a Body House,” which meditates on embodiment, self-perception, and the intimate minutiae of daily, physical existence.
Full poem read aloud, offering a sensory-rich meditation on embodiment detoured by technology and fleeting moments:
“I've never received an eviction notice. These days I shake uncontrollably every time I think of the tactile universe… In bed, in first light, I turned toward my own visage and the reverse setting on my phone camera arrows flipped outside. Now I take photos of everything insignificant. Ragweed, roadside forsythia, dandelion clocks overrunning a drainage ditch. Ghost seed.” (05:16–06:40)
Key Themes in the Poem:
Memorable Lines:
This episode offers a resonant meditation on how technology changes the way we think about and see our bodies, and how poetry can reveal and heal some of the distance this brings. The poem “Parts of a Body House” enriches these thoughts by grounding them in sensory detail and emotional nuance, offering listeners a chance to pause and consider what it truly means to inhabit their bodies—alone and together.